First, Paz welcomes Terry Richardson — and, by extension, the viewer — into her apartment. She is wearing a black chiffon cape and a wide-brimmed black hat that sort of makes her look like a hipster pilgrim. Later, she changes to a too-small leather jacket and some kind of vulva stick-pin.

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Paz likes smoking, and sleigh beds.

This one is funny because it looks like she's shitting out that Grecian head. (Also, who has a Grecian head in the house? What does one do with a Grecian head? Is it like an oversized paper weight? Do they make good bookends? It seems like the bed would be a bad place to keep your Grecian head, if you had one.)

Never touch the door frames in Paz de la Huerta's apartment.

Is it weird that my first reaction to these shots is surprise? Not, given how many times we've seen Paz de la Huerta naked already — naked on Boardwalk Empire, naked in Purple magazine, naked in all of The Limits of Control, naked on a motorcycle, naked at the Fulton Street Russian baths — surprise at the nudity or her body. Surprise at how cluttered, messy, and normal-sized her apartment is. Paz de la Huerta is like legit famous — shouldn't she be living in some paradisiacal floor-through in the West Village or a gigantic SoHo loft, not a cramped apartment with the standard New York City galley kitchen and all the walls painted Rental White? Speaking of walls: note the percentage of wall space in Paz de la Huerta's apartment devoted to pictures of Paz de la Huerta.